SIROCCO.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XLIV, Issue 13452, 31 May 1907, Page 3

SIROCCO.

[PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT.]

BY KENNETH BSOWN. .

[ALL EIGHTS RESERVED.] . [COPTRfGHT.] CHAPTER XX.—(Continued.) The Vizier had firm faith in the efficacy of murdering men. And because the horee of the day before had failed to kill Duncanwhich would have appeared so delightfully accidental—he did not feel discouraged. Indeed, he was rather glad; j | for there was one thing more that he would like to find out > from Duncan before he j put him where he could tell no tales. ' j

Duncan watched the Vizier read the bogus letter, and admired his acting. , It was not bod acting on either side.

" And now the manner of your communicating with her in the first place?" the Vizier said gently, yet with a certain assurance, as if there could be no further reticence on Duncan's part—a persuasive manner of almost hypnotic force.

Duncan knocked the ashes from his pipe with deliberation. He was exorcising tiie charm of the Vizier's manner. "I shall have to think about that a while longer," he answered.

"Do you know the worth of those rings? To a poor man they are a fortune." Other things were implied in the voice of the Vizier.

■ Yes, but they are a dangerous fortune. There are desperate men in Sirocco, 1 might not live to carry these rings out o: the country. They are not exactly an amu let to help me to escape. You want t( know how I heard from Dalmera Grahame in the first place, because she might'com jmunieate with others as she did with *10 unless I told you, so that you could stoj her. Somehow," Duncan continued mus nigly, " I feel as if that knowledge were i safeguard for me, as if nothing would hap pen to while I kept it to myself. Bui would 3'ou," and his manner changed t( one of businesslke briskness— yoi send whatever, you thought the telling wai worth to an American ship on the "coast?" "Yess," the Vizier answered eagerly. He thought himself at the culmination oi his quest. " All right," Duncan answered" placidly. " Send me with it, and see me safely or board an American ship, and there I'll tel. you the secret." ' | The look of eagerness on the face of tht Siroccan changed. His diplomatic mask did not hide the downcast feeling that came over him when the cup was thus dashed from his thirsting lips. He knew that his master would rather risk a war with the Powers than forego his revenge on this man. Only by the strongest representations of Duncan's absolute powerlessriess jultimately to escape had the Vizier prevented his passionate and undisciplined master from crushing Duncan at oncc,- and in some manner that would bring severe punishment on him from the civilised nations who felt- called on to keep an eye on the Sultan's good behaviour, an eye in which there lurked a desire for the rich territory of this North African kingdom. The Vizier swallowed once before he spoke againswallowed his disappointment. " Lss that what in your country you call ' business?' ' Mr. Bumstead, ' the amiable gentleman who preceded you as American Consul, talked to, me so much of the ' business' ways of his country,... and, prophesied that We should nefer be great as he seemed to think you were, unless we came to this same method of business." • " " Duncan laughed. " The Sultan has got a clever Vizier, anyway. I should like to tell him what a treasure you are." V " The opportunity is to you, if you wish it," the Vizier answered suavely. " The Sultan yesterday request' me to tell , you that he would be glad to receive you socially. He has forgiven you your. escapade. He thinks it was onnly foolish, desire for adventure with which your countrymen are: cursed. He would be pleased to see you, not .offeeeially, ' but late in the afternoon when he takes his pleasure." < ' - i Though the- Vizier's voice was smooth and encouraging, as befitted the bearer of a polite invitation, Duncan could see that it did not enter his mind that the invitation would be accepted. But Duncan, in spite of His habitual caution in conducting risky affairs, was possessed by occasional dashes of audacity that he could hardly explain to himself,. and all the foolhardiness he ever felt came over him at this moment. "I shall be very, glad to come," he answered.

The Vizier looked at him. None other than that word of doubtful ancestry, " flabbergasted," will express tho state of his feelings at this matter-of-fact acceptance. He was too much overcome even to haverecourse to the diplomatic , cigarette, the rolling or the lighting, or the playing with which has given to many 'a statesman time to gather his wits and formulate a fitting rejoinder, when his tongue was sorely at! loss for a suitable lie. The Vizier stared at Duncan, and a. wave of something akin to self-pity came over kim, unintrospective as he . was. Was- his passionate and reckless master not enough to have to manage, and to guard from the results of his own imprudence, that' the objects of his hate must thrust themselves forward, wantonly, to tempt the Sultan >to destroy them, in the manner that would be most embarrassing, most cruelly embarrassing to the destroyer? Duncan watched, the Vizier with keen delight. His pleasures were not ordinarily psychological; yet he was following the actions of his guest's mind with great accuracy ; and the humour in his. composition responded to the situation, dubious as an onlooker might have deemed it for him. Truly he was a man to " shake the iron hand of Fate, and match with Destiny for beers.''' .

The Vizier prolonged; his visit until lie had managed to collect his nerve ; and when at last he left Duncan, very sleepy, he was not entirely ill-pleased, : in .spite of the surprises he had experienced. He had paid a large price for a worthless letter; but lie still anticipated . success in getting from Duncan the information he wished —when he should pay enough for it. His Siroccan instincts perfectly understood the American's holding off for a larger price. He had tested Duncan, and Duncan had rung true to the stroke of gold. Duncan had promised nothing lie had not performed: he had rendered service for all money taken. Yet even as Duncan had mistrusted the Arabian stallion, sub-consciously almost, so there lurked in the back of the Vizier's mind a suspicion, a feeling, an intuition that in spite of all his tests, he might not have plumbed the depths of the American's character. It was this which kept him from despising Duncan, as he despised all his tools. Or perhaps it was because, in spite of having bought him and bought him again, he was unable to despise Duncan utterly, that he had this feeling of vague uneasiness in regard to him. As for the Sultan, the Vizier trusted that from the ease. of getting Duncan to venture into the lion's mouth, it would be possible to persuade the lion not to snap his jaws at this venturing— till a fitting time, one less likely to give trouble with the Powers. i

CHAPTER XXI. THE HAND OF THE SULTAN. . Duncan, although successful thus farbeing still alive, which was to be counted a fair measure of success—had achieved nothing in the matter of rescuing or communicating with Dalmera Grahame, and in so far he had failed. The English , girl might be buried in some dungeon, utterly inaccessible to him, or she might be in another palace—she might even be, dead, although, from the Vizier's talk, . Duncan was quite sure that she was not. But how to communicate with her? That his old method would be quite futile he was so convinced that he gave it no thought. Marked man as he was he could not hope again to tap out messages under the Sultan's h arenalik, while watching for notes to come to him in return. Yet lie must find some way of communicating with her, or else turn the affair over to the blundering hands of the English • Government. He had hopes of getting Cunningham into shape to be able to help him. He was working on him as hard as the most ardent temperance advocate could wish. He found the role of proselyter awkward.. Inducing another to

sign the pledge is hard for one whoso natural instincts Wjere ,to pass the bottle round. He saw some improvement in the Englishman, as the result of his efforts, but unless he told him the whole story* lie could offer no sufficient inducement to Cunningham to reform; and Duncan simply was afraid to trust the other in bis present state. Of all broken reeds a drunken man is the worst, because there is no counting on him. One can calculate on the folly of the fool, or the weakness of the degenerate, or the viciousress of the knave. A drunken man obeys no known law; he be- . comes surly or expansive, silent or loquacious, without reason. He may guard a bundle of hosiery with his life,,and at the same minute let a bag full of greenbacks slip through nis /fingers. Duncan himself, in the matter of the Somersault Pony at Simla, kicked over the bucket into which Fate was milking fame and fortune, because he himself had' drunk too much of the bottle, and felt that it would be unfriendly not to make another do the same. j However, although Duncan dared not yeti enlist the -co-operation of Cunningham, an opportunity for making some progress i seemed to open before him in his coming | interview with the Sultan. He had accepted the invitation merely on the impulse of [the moment; yet. in thinking about it after the Vizier left him, a hope sprang up in j his heart that lie might get some clue to the girl's whereabouts from th? Sultan, possibly even some chance of giving her art i inkling that ho was still alive, still exerting ihimself on her behalf. ' j Having accepted the Sultan's invitation, it- was characteristic of Duncan that he j never for a moment hesitated in carrying out the perilous social duty. .. Divining, | rather than reasoning out, the devious ways in which the Siroccan mind travels, he was not afraid of being murdered in the palace. Nevertheless, lie went prepared. A reserve of caution is necessary in the rashest enterprises, if they are to succeed: it is this makes,,.the difference between splendid achievement and foolish failure. Duncan wan rash to venture into the Sultan's !palace T but his was a rashness that went well heeled. He debated long with himself whether to wear Anderson's bullet-proof waistcoat beneath his coat. ;He finally decided against it because : activity seemed more likely to be of benefit to him—if , worst came to worst—than a garment which would turn a bullet from his heart/ Andersons present.was. undeniably clumsy; i and;';it had taken'no great stretch of imagination on Duncan's part to imagine it a strait-jacket, Except for this, he went as fully prepared for mortal combat as the means 'at his command permitted. "Somebody's going first, if they pot me," he said, > patting the smooth working Colt inside his waistcoat, which lay so handy for sudden use. Lastly, he slipped on his middle fin- ; gev the poison-ring which he had got from ! Abrack, when the physician had visited s him in his blacksmith's shop opposite the harem at the edge of the bazaar. ' (To be continued daily.)